


homesick for a better time

by crownedcarl



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, seduction via farming ??? i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcarl/pseuds/crownedcarl
Summary: Summer gives way to the beginning of fall, and Rick’s smiles are becoming less of a rarity.





	homesick for a better time

**Author's Note:**

> plot twist: i intended to write something heavy on the angst, but then this...happened. i hope you guys enjoy this silly, short little fic about farmer!rick teasing negan and fluffy things happening. the title's from a softer world, and so are a couple of lines in the fic itself - if you guys aren't familiar with a softer world, i highly recommend you check it out. ❤️

Rick Grimes, Negan muses, has fireflies where his caution should be.

The summer days are long and bright, and Rick’s posture grows less wary with each day that Negan stalks up to him and runs his mouth, Rick’s curls clinging to his neck with sweat, his shoulders shifting beneath his shirt. There’s less meat on him, these days, leaving Rick wiry and lean.

Negan thinks that if he lifted Rick’s shirt, he’d be able to count the ribs all the way from top to bottom. The starved lines of clavicle and sternum would be cast with shadow. Sometimes, he wonders if his hands would meet in the middle if he gripped Rick’s hips, thumbs joining below Rick’s navel, squeezing tight enough to leave bruises.

He wonders if Rick thinks about it, too, with Negan’s hand clamped firm on his shoulder, both of them too hot in the sweltering sun, Negan’s thumb sliding up Rick’s clammy neck. He wonders if Rick would shiver.

Rick is slowly warming to the idea of Negan not having to play the part of enemy, and it shows in the lines of his barely-there smile, his eyes thawing from winter to spring as Negan inserts himself into the empty spaces in Rick’s life. There’s something obscenely satisfying about Rick not tensing up as he gives Negan his back. He could so, so easily go in for the kill, or force Rick to his knees, maybe shove him up against the closest wall, but Negan refrains. That’s not how this is going to play out.

Rick has to come to him.

-

Summer gives way to the beginning of fall, and Rick’s smiles are becoming less of a rarity.

“You did real fucking great,” Negan chuckles, crouching in Rick’s field of crops, pretending he knows what he’s doing as he inspects the tomatoes, red and ripe and smooth. At the rate Rick’s going, he’ll be feeding both their communities for a long, long time. “Where the hell’d you learn to do this, Rick?”

Negan has chosen a slow seduction. He’s always been better with actions, but his words will have to rise to the occasion, because Rick’s smile becomes a smirk as he waves a hand loosely across the garden, shrugging one shoulder lazily. “A friend,” is all he deigns to tell Negan, his voice soft. “A good friend showed me the ropes.”

Negan figures he wasn’t responsible for the death of that particular friend. Rick wouldn’t be gazing at him without caution, if that was the case, and a momentary relief floods Negan before he gets a handle on it and gets his smile back into place.

Rick grows things - communities, alliances, crops. He builds where Negan has never known better than to destroy, and his admiration for the man is growing by the day, seeing the devotion, witnessing what Rick’s capable of. “Your kid’s not helping out?”

Back in the day, Rick would close off at the mention of Carl. Today, he huffs a short laugh and shakes his head, slowly tugging off his gardening gloves and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand; he succeeds in getting the sweat off, but leaves a streak of dirt. “He’s on the wall,” Rick sighs, “Patrolling.”

“He embarrassed to be seen with you?”

Rick’s laugh is the gift that keeps on fucking giving. He’s leaning against a shovel, eyes squinting against the sun, and his tongue darts out, wets his lips, and Negan makes a real effort at looking away. “Something like that,” Rick agrees, scratching the back of his neck. His hair is gathered in a low ponytail, curls spilling out where the tie is coming loose. “I guess he had to grow into the teenage angst eventually.”

Negan can’t exactly dispute that. He sees Rick’s eyes following his movements when his hand rises to his collar, unzipping his jacket, and wonders why Rick looks so damn surprised to see him stripping out of that suffocating leather, folding the length of his jacket across his arm and reveling in the soft breeze that finally allows him to cool down. “You like what you see?” Negan grins, but there’s less heat in the taunt than before.

Maybe it’s because it’s not quite a taunt, anymore, but a tease.

Averting his eyes, Rick returns his attention to his damn tomatoes. Negan can’t tell if the redness to Rick’s cheeks is from the heat or because he’s embarrassed. Hope can take a man a long, long way, and Negan lets the little rejection go without a fuss. They linger in silence, standing in the rows of vegetables, not looking at each other.

“I’ve been thinking, actually. ‘bout this.”

“You mind elaborating?” Negan asks, “Or are you gonna put me through a round of twenty fucking questions?”

It’s not as harsh as it should be, his demand, but Rick looks at home with his boots sunk into the soil, with the sun at his back, eyes soft and hazed. Negan isn’t prepared to part with this image any time soon, and his tongue softens, his words turning to honey.

“About you,” Rick rephrases, tilting his head enough to meet Negan’s eyes, “About how you’re different, now.”

Negan brought Lucille, always does, but she’s resting in the slack embrace of his hand, dragging against the dirt. She’s no more than an afterthought, sometimes, when Negan’s head is filled with thoughts of Rick’s sun-kissed skin and chapped lips. He’s almost forgiven himself for that.

“Tell me,” he chuckles, “How am I different? Is it the cologne? I thought you’d like it, baby.”

Having to endure Rick’s smile is a special kind of torture, because Negan has no fucking clue what he’s supposed to do about it. Rick’s easy to read when he’s terrified, but his confidence is a whole ‘nother story. Negan’s not used to seeing it in the flesh.

Negan doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but _goddamn._

Those blue eyes zero in on him, and Negan almost holds his fucking breath in anticipation of what’s coming, searching Rick’s expression for clues. He looks relaxed. He looks...soft.

“The way you’re looking at me,” Rick says. “That’s different. I thought you’d be more forward.”

Negan’s heart ends up in his throat. Knowing Rick’s a hell of a lot more perceptive than he lets on is one thing, but being sucker-punched by the knowing timbre of Rick’s satisfied accusation makes Negan’s mouth dry up, his eyes darting from the lush garden to Rick’s amused eyes.

“You want _forward?”_ Negan asks, stepping closer, but keeping himself a comfortable distance away. It’s risky, getting this close in broad daylight where anyone could walk by and see, but Rick’s at an angle behind the garden shed; he won’t be spotted unless someone actually enters the garden. “Alright. I can work with that.”

He doesn’t kiss his wives. He knows what they’re there for, and so do they, but Rick is different from the petite bodies in tight, black dresses. Negan wants more from him than he can put into words.

His chapped mouth fits nicely against Negan’s. After all the time he’s spent wondering about this, the truth is that Rick tastes human; dry lips and slick tongue against Negan’s own, the lingering taste of coffee behind Rick’s teeth. It’s not half bad, considering, and Negan pushes closer without realizing, Rick’s chest flush against his own.

There’s a hand curving around his neck. His jacket falls to the ground, forgotten, because Rick’s making a soft noise against Negan’s mouth and his world narrows down to that little sigh, determined to drag it out of Rick again and again. “Didn’t have you pegged for that kind of girl,” Negan laughs, wincing when Rick tugs at his hair in warning and breaks the kiss. There’s something dark and hot behind Rick’s eyes, alive with desire.

He wonders if Rick’s lost his mind, for a second. Wonders if maybe Rick’s letting Negan in because even monsters are welcome when your home feels empty, but he’s not giving Rick enough fucking credit. The man knows what he wants. He wouldn’t settle for less.

“Didn’t have you pegged for a coward,” Rick replies, and Negan’s the one left gasping when Rick’s fingers catch the short strands at the back of his head and _tugs,_ inviting himself to press his mouth to Negan’s exposed throat. “You’re a lot more obvious than you think, pinin’ day in and day out.”

“Could say the same for you,” Negan huffs, “With those fucking come hither eyes, standing too damn close. Never did a damn thing about it, did you?”

The satisfaction warms Rick’s eyes. He looks like a damn Renaissance painting. If he stepped a little closer, his forehead would touch Negan’s. “Didn’t I?” Rick laughs, “Aren’t I?”

He can’t argue with that, but Negan’s not in the mood for arguing. “Heard there’s a storm coming,” he mutters, letting Rick’s hand travel to the small of his back, finding the warm skin beneath the thin shirt and resting there, content. “Might have to spend the night.”

“That so?” Rick asks. He’s pulling Negan backwards with him, until he’s up against the garden shed, Negan looking down at him as they’re sheltered in the shade. It sounds like an invitation.

His mouth finds Rick’s pulse; tastes it, bites down. He feels Rick’s body respond with a shudder.

“Yeah,” Negan whispers, caging Rick inside his arms. “But that’s enough talking.”

He chases Rick’s mouth, marks it as his own, and Rick’s laughter tastes of delight.

**Author's Note:**

> ["a softer world, homesick"](http://asofterworld.com/index.php?id=924) / ["a softer world, fireflies"](http://asofterworld.com/index.php?id=938) / ["a softer world, goddamn"](http://asofterworld.com/index.php?id=1000) / ["a softer world, monsters"](http://asofterworld.com/index.php?id=1030)


End file.
